If the last time you saw Matisyahu was at Summerfest in 2011, you won't recognize him at his return to the Big Gig Saturday.

In December 2011, the once self-proclaimed "Hasidic reggae superstar," who turned 35 Monday, shaved off his signature beard and stopped performing with his traditional suit and yarmulke.

From a branding perspective, Matisyahu admits it was "crazy, like if McDonald's changed their arches to triangles." But on a spiritual and personal level, he had to do it.

"When I first started out, I was living in the Chabad neighborhood in Crown Heights (in Brooklyn), studying Shiva, so that was the look I had taken on," said Matisyahu, whose birth name is Matthew Miller. "Initially it was a choice, but over time it became no longer a choice, but something that I was required to do. I got to a certain point in my life when I decided to make all the decisions in my life again."

The physical transition was also a manifestation of Matisyahu's broadening spiritual beliefs — although, he said, Judaism remains "a monumental part of my life and my inspiration. I don't think that will ever be removed, whether I have a beard or don't have a beard."

His June album is called "Akeda," the Hebrew word for "binding," and was inspired by what he called "this existential quest I've been on over the last 10 years." A clearly personal album, "Akeda" includes "Reservoir," a prayer in song form; "Watch the Walls Melt Down," a reflection of a personal epiphany, and a passionate song to his 5-year-old boy, Shalom, "Vow of Silence," with father passing along his life lessons to his son.

Around the time he shaved his beard, Matisyahu said, "I had a series of health issues. I did not speak for several months, and I changed the way I ate, and I was home for a period of time. And during that time, I sensitized myself. It was like something inside me thawed out emotionally. This record represents that. It's a lot more emotional and gritty and colorful and shaded in terms of the darkness, but it still has, and there'll always be, the hopeful tone for redemption.

"I think I am a little bit more honest on this record," he continued. "In terms of my relationship with Judaism and God, I stopped glorifying it and putting it on a pedestal, and began relating to characters in the Bible as real human beings who endured real trials. The funny part about it is I had gotten rid of this Chabad look, yet I felt really closest in my life to achieving what my idea of being Hasidic was really about."